


Left Unsaid

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7421626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They rarely say</i> I love you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> My first (but hopefully not only!) entry for the [Rhink Summer Ficathon](https://rhinksummerficathon2k16.tumblr.com/)! I used the prompt [Might Tell You Tonight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TosO5ti3LIk) by the Scissor Sisters, and also Love Languages, both kiiiiiinda loosely. (Okay, very loosely.)

They rarely say _I love you_.

They talk to each other for a living, quips and gentle teases thrown back and forth on camera—it's what they've built their empire on, the chemistry and connection between them. They talk to each other when they're not working, brief phone calls to arrange dinners and sleepovers for the kids, early morning murmurings as they drive into the office, idle gossip over burgers and fries at lunch. Somehow even after thirty years of nearly-constant contact, they still have no trouble finding things to talk about. But there’s just as much that never gets said.

Rhett has only worn cologne once around Link since his wedding day, over fifteen years ago. He got in the car and Link had winced immediately, rubbing his temples as he drove. Rhett found him in the dark office later with an arm draped over his eyes, a bottle of Tylenol beside him. "Sorry, man," he'd mumbled, "just—the smell gives me a headache. Never used to, I don't know what happened." Now, Rhett might splash some on if he and Jessie are going out to a nice dinner, because she loves the smell, loves to nuzzle her head in the crook of his neck and breathe him in deep, but he makes sure he's showered and smelling only of his beard oil the next morning when Link comes to pick him up.

Link doesn't believe half the shit Rhett talks about, parallel universes and alternate dimensions, futurist talk when Link has enough trouble just dealing with the present sometimes. But the sadness on Rhett's face when Link dismisses him is like kicking a puppy, so Link smiles and nods and listens, tries to keep his eye rolls to himself, even when no one else is paying any attention. He quickly finds Rhett’s palpable joy at having a receptive audience is worth listening to just about any amount of ridiculousness.

Rhett’s learned to not only not flinch from Link’s touch but to welcome it, and even to initiate touches of his own. The bright smile on Link’s face when Rhett brushes a stray lock of hair from his forehead, or steadies him with a spread palm low on his back when they’re walking on uneven ground—Link’s clumsy, always has been, coltish still even though he’s nearing forty—is more than enough to make up for any lingering discomfort he feels. At least, Rhett assumes it’s discomfort, that feeling coiling in his gut, sparking in his fingertips, whenever their hands brush.

Link hates spending money, the mentality of a childhood spent scrimping and saving never fully leaving him even though they’re doing well for themselves now, and he quietly begrudges every dime that comes out of his pocket if it’s something that doesn’t _really_ need to be purchased. Still, he finds himself picking up gifts wherever he goes—little wooden sculptures, books on philosophy, accessories and gadgets to go along with whatever Rhett’s current ‘layer’ is—without even considering the price. Rhett’s never lost his childlike glee about presents, and the curve of his cheeks, the excited glint in his eyes as he unwraps each trinket, makes Link so warm all over that he throws away the receipts without looking at them.

Rhett navigates when Link’s driving, keeping his voice calm and even when Link starts to stress about the traffic, makes sure Link pays attention when Rhett notices his mind drifting. Link slows his quick pace without being asked when Rhett’s back is hurting and he can’t keep up, tries to minimize the amount Rhett has to move by bringing him coffee, lunch, whatever he needs, brushing off Rhett’s embarrassed thanks with, “it’s nothin’, dude, I was up anyway.” Rhett keeps the office pantry stocked with Frosted Mini-Wheats and peanut butter; Link makes sure there’s always the latest _People_ and _Us Weekly_ in the bathroom. Rhett never orders olives when they split a pizza even though he loves them; Link always leaves the last slice even if he’s still hungry.

It’s rarely in words, but they’re always saying _I love you._


End file.
